Late And Clothed

Its been a few days since I have spent time with my Liam. Busy lives have taken our time, but tonight we get some back. A date, per se, although I haven't decided if I want to take him out or spend the entire evening together here at home.

I dress to go out, beneath my long deep blue dress, are garments fitting for staying in. Even though it isn't one of my many corsets I would usually use for alone time with him, I think the bra, garter, panties and stockings, all in the matching hints of blue, will be more than adequate.

Finding I have some time before he arrives, I slip into the library to read for a bit. I curl up in my chair near the fire, smiling to myself as I know he will be here soon. I do miss him. I pick up my book and begin to read, getting caught up in the story, I look up at the clock on the mantle and frown. He is late, over thirty minutes late.

Setting my book aside, I head back into the bedroom and remove the dress, returning it to the hanger. No sense in keeping it on, we won't be going out now. As I change the bra for a tight fitting corset, I can feel the disappointment rise. The directions were quite clear, I gave him extra time to get here already.

I stride to the playroom, although it wont be for play tonight. I check the clock again, forty five minutes now. Shaking my head, that boy of mine is going to be very sore come morning. I settle into my chair and wait, I can feel the impatience build and the disappointment deepening.

I hear him come thru the front door, I can hear as he searches room to room trying to find me. The hesitation at the door to the playroom audible. I glance at the clock almost an hour late. I know my look speaks volumes. I wait for the door to slowly open.

He peers in, sees me in my chair and rushes over; falling to his knees halfway across the room, almost crawling to me. He has made yet another mistake tonight, he comes clothed. A soft sigh escapes my lips. He looks up at me, he wants to make excuses, he knows I won't accept them. He knows sorry isn't enough and because of that he knows not to speak.

I watch him, wondering how long it will take before he decides to remove his clothes. I can see him squirm, I close my eyes as I realize it is going to be a very long night and not the one I had planned on. I open my eyes and look down at his form. I rise walking around him and stride toward the fireplace.

Staring into the flames, my voice is harsh as I say, "Naked boy, NOW!"

He gasps in horror as he realizes his extreme error. He should have known on entering, he should have anticipated it after being an hour late. As soon as he walked thru that front door, he should have stripped. I can hear him scrambling to remove all his clothes, when the rustling stops, I turn to look at him.

He is so beautiful, such incredible form. He is there kneeling, all the way down, head pressed to the floor. His breathing is harsh, erratic. A sheen of sweat already forming on his back, the hair on the nape of his neck curling from the dampness.

Grabbing a handful of hair, I pull his head back so he can see how very upset I am. I can see the tears begin to pool, he knows. I lean in close and speak softly, "Not a word unless I ask you to speak, any sound other than a cry or a scream and I will gag you. Do you understand me?"

He swallows hard, stuck trying to figure out whether to speak or try and nod with my holding a fistful of hair. Seeing his dilemma, I say, "Speak boy."

"Yes Mistress. i understand."

"Good." I release his hair and begin to circle his form. "you have greatly disappointed me tonight boy. First, an hour late and then you come to me dressed. you know better than both." Pressing my foot into his back, adding enough pressure for him to understand the gravity in my words, "Don't you?" His response is a grunt.

I stand over his body, straddling it. Again grabbing a handful of hair and bringing his head back, I lean in and whisper into his ear, "I had planned on making love half the night, over and over again. I wanted to spend our night in slow sensual foreplay followed by a lengthy period of time riding your hard cock. I wanted to savor your body tonight, taste you and have you do the same for me. This.." Pulling hard on his hair, "wasn't in my plans."

Pushing his head back down to the floor, I return to my chair and watch him quiver. Letting him kneel there, wondering when and with what.. and for how long. I wait, knowing the time is dragging on for him, in my mind I am going over a reasonable way to deal with both offences. He flinches as he hears me rise and walk to the cabinet, I know he wants to turn his head, to see what I will use.

"Rise, hands linked behind your head." He does so immediately and as soon as he has his stance, the whistle of the cane thru the air warns him of what I have in my hand.

"This is for your clothing. One for each article you had to remove. "

In quick repetition, the cane lands four times on his ass; the first at the top, then each consecutive one an inch below the previous. "The shirt, the suit jacket, the boxers, the pants." A single long cry at the speed in which the cane landed escapes him. Three more snaps at an angle to the previous four, watching the welts start. "The socks, the tie and the shoes." Another scream, louder this time. I trace the welts tenderly with my fingers, a part of me not liking to make them.

I replace the cane and pick up the matching pair of floggers. Walking around his body, I stop in front of him and show him the floggers. "With two, I can make it thru the once per minute late much faster." His eyes go wide at my words. I nod, "yes boy. One strike per minute you were late." I can see the internal battle to speak, its in his eyes. I wait to see what part of him wins, he slowly dips his head.

"Cuffs, ankle and wrist." He scurries to the chest and brings them back to me. I attach all four cuffs and point to the table.

"Face down."

Once he is settled, I clip his limbs down. I push the button and tilt the table, at enough of an angle to work his body but not so much that he would slide down. Gently tracing the shapes on his ass, I smooth my hands over his torso and down his thighs before stepping back.

Starting with the right hand, I begin. Right then left, the flogger's tresses landing hard. He fights to hold still, cries and screams slipping out every few landings. Over his back, avoiding his lower back and concentrating on his ass and upper thighs, the right and left handed strikes working up and back. Watching the skin go from light pink to dark pink., the marks from the cane almost red, I stop.

Returning the table to flat, leaving my floggers on the side table, I pick up the lotion and begin to sooth the skin. Hearing him whimper as the cool lotion works into the burn, I gingerly work everywhere he is marked. I unclip the cuffs, leaving them on.

I lean in and whisper, "Well Done boy. you can speak now if you wish."

His voice raspy, "Thank You Mistress."

I stroke his hair softly, pressing my lips to his cheek. "Can we work on some of those plans now, Liam?"

He rolls carefully off the table and kneels before me, smiling up at me, " please Mistress."

Leaning down to attach his leash to his hardened cock, I lead him down the hall to our bedroom.